Humiliation?

What was it like to stand nearly naked in front of another person?

Gong Ning’s outer robes had already been removed, leaving only a single undergarment on her body.

The demoness hadn’t used force to coerce her, but her calm, steady gaze made Gong Ning feel deeply uneasy—reminding her all too well of what had just transpired.

If her desires weren’t satisfied, she would only grow more forceful, more extreme, until Gong Ning submitted.

And so, submission was the only choice.

She still had her disciples.

She still had Lingling—a child who needed protection.

Gong Ning even felt the urge to cover herself, as if that would bring some sense of safety.

But pride stopped her.

It was just flesh and skin…

“Truly full. Truly perfect.”

In the demoness’s eyes, the pale moon-colored undergarment clung tightly to Gong Ning’s mature, voluptuous form.

Her bright eyes and flawless teeth contrasted with her faintly angry expression, making her all the more alluring.

The fine fabric of the undergarment was like translucent cicada wings.

The neckline gaped slightly, revealing a sliver of creamy skin.

A delicate sheen of sweat glistened at the hollow of her collarbone.

Have you ever seen a farmer filtering starch?

When flour and water are poured into a white cloth filter, the fabric sags into a soft, round bulge.

Shaking it slowly extracts the starchy liquid.

Each motion makes it smoother, more even.

If you touched the cloth, you’d feel the cool, soft dough beneath.

“You truly… exceed all expectations.

The thought that I created you fills me with endless satisfaction.

You are my most perfect creation.”

Gong Ning realized she was being too calm.

She always tried to understand others’ thoughts, to grasp the emotions behind their words.

When she knew the demoness wasn’t mocking or objectifying her, but genuinely admiring her, it was hard to truly feel anger.

Gong Ning didn’t even notice she had unconsciously bitten her lip.

The demoness’s gaze made her instinctively press her thighs together.

The demoness didn’t push further.

Instead, she stepped in front of Gong Ning, knelt down, and gently ran her fingers over her ankle.

Her touch was soft, warm.

Wherever her fingers passed, ripples spread across Gong Ning’s skin—tremors running through her body.

“You’re reacting.

Like a newlywed wife, overwhelmed by something unknown yet deeply desired.

Do you know?

You’re unaware of yourself.

You’re already damp with arousal, yet still carry that lingering innocence…”

Gong Ning understood exactly what she meant.

A woman who stirs desire, yet remains pure and ethereal—this concept, in another world, was called pure-yu.

“Oh, I’m not saying this to provoke or humiliate you.

I’m speaking the truth. My genuine feelings.”

“Then I’d rather you did humiliate me.”

“So you do have the seven emotions and six desires of a normal person.”

The demoness grew bolder.

She stood, wrapped her arms around Gong Ning’s waist—tighter than before.

Gong Ning felt the firm press of her chest, her breath growing short.

“You know, the human body, no matter how it changes, is ultimately governed by the mind.

Feeling someone’s hands are soft, their waist pleasant to touch—these are mere sensory reactions.

But you… you’re different.”

She moved higher, her palms sliding up from Gong Ning’s waist.

“This part—too little flesh, you feel the ribs.

Too much, it’s all fat.

But you… my palms tingle.

It’s as if my entire being is stirred by you.

I can’t feel a single negative emotion toward you.”

Gong Ning trembled involuntarily.

Her body was too young, too sensitive.

In this state, even the slightest touch sent sharp waves of sensation through her.

“You don’t hate it, do you?

You’re actually enjoying this.

And I’m a woman too.

By common standards, my appearance should be the kind that makes others imagine things.”

It was true.

Gong Ning didn’t feel much resistance.

Her mind and perception were still shaped by over a century of experience.

To be touched by a beautiful woman—rather than repulsed, she felt a strange comfort.

The demoness’s face certainly didn’t disgust her.

Calm, serene, with deep, fathomless eyes—and a teardrop mole at the corner of her eye.

“Oh, by the way,” the demoness added, “some people now resist those who use techniques or spells to enhance their appearance.

I can tell you honestly—my face and body are entirely natural.

And I’ve never had intimate contact with anyone.

Only you.”

At last, she had touched the one thing that could not be accepted.

“How should I describe this feeling?

Can’t put you down.

The only flaw is… I don’t feel you responding.”

Gong Ning tried to hold her breath.

But the moment she slipped, a sweet, soft moan escaped her throat.

Then, like a dam breaking, the sounds came freely.

Only now did true anger surpass shame.

Just as she resolved to fight to the death, the demoness seemed to see through her thoughts.

She stopped.

She didn’t go further.

“I’ve found your problem.

You suppress yourself too much.

In modern ethics, restraining instinct and controlling desire is seen as a virtue.

But is that really right?

All things in nature exist for a reason.

This isn’t something that should be erased.”

“Have you said enough?”

“Don’t you want to say something?

Debate human nature?

Or some other tired, messy philosophical topic?”

“Hmph.” Gong Ning gave a cold laugh. “We’re both centuries-old beings.

Is there any point in talking?”

The longer one lived, the more rigid their thoughts became.

Ideas hardened like stone, buried deep in the mind.

“Oh, I forgot.

To ordinary people, reaching Golden Core does take a hundred, even two hundred years…

But let me give you good news.

I’m twenty-nine.”

Twenty-nine?

Assuming at least five—maybe even three—years of undeveloped infancy, she’d only had about twenty-six years of cultivation.

And she was already at fifth layer of Golden Core?

That made sense.

Sword Immortal Jiang Yuyao had broken through to Golden Core at that age.

Geniuses were always different.

“Well?

Do you still have the desire to talk with me?”

“Don’t you think you talk too much?

Chattering endlessly. Annoying.”

“You’re clearly enjoying it, yet you keep denying it.

So stubborn.

If your mouth were as soft as your body…”

If not for her disciples, Gong Ning would have long abandoned this weak resistance and attacked with everything she had.

The demoness suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t force you.

Maybe I should let you taste some sweetness too.”

And with that, she began to undress.

Layer by layer, her clothes slipped from her body—faster, freer than Gong Ning’s own movements.

Could she really fight?

Honestly, even Gong Ning wasn’t sure.

Sometimes, pain and pleasure were exactly the same thing.